


when sakura blooms

by meowjunhwi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Angst, Battle of Hogwarts, Character Death, Implied Professional Quidditch Player Atsumu, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, brief mentions of background characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:01:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25528612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meowjunhwi/pseuds/meowjunhwi
Summary: When he got to the area near the back and saw the huddle of his family and closest friends, forlorn looks on their faces, the first thing that he thought was, “Unfair. Osamu, you’re unfair.”or simply put, Battle of Hogwarts but instead of the Weasley Twins, it's the Miya Twins.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu & Miya Osamu, Miya Atsumu & Suna Rintarou, Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 9
Kudos: 88





	when sakura blooms

**Author's Note:**

> So I was having my Harry Potter marathon after watching Seventeen's interview with Stacy Nam and hearing them sort themselves into their own houses rouses up the tiny bit of Potterhead inside of me and I got inspired to writing SVT HP AUs. I'm now in Deathly Hallows Pt. 1 and just watched Fred be all soft and worried because George got hurt and then I thought of the Miya Twins and I've always held the Weasley Twins close and dear to my heart because they're my absolute favorite ever since I started watching when I was like idk 10? And I love Miya Twins and I'm sad about the manga ending and Atsumu wearing the number 11 on his Japan National Team Jersey which was Osamu's Inarizaki jersey and I think I just broke a little when I saw that. 
> 
> Anyway, that got too long lmao. I hope you enjoy this painful piece I came up with on a whim. For any errors, I apologize beforehand because I didn't really beta-ed this lmao I just wrote it and then poof posted it. I just miss Haikyuu so much.

Atsumu remembered Osamu’s last words before they went to their respective assigned areas for the last stand against the Death Eaters.

_“Don’t die. I won’t be able to get to you easily in all these chaos to save your dumb ass,”_ he says and Atsumu just scoffs, remembering to elbow him on the stomach before they went their separate ways (and before he could see Osamu and Rintarou hug and kiss and promise each other to ‘See you later,’ because they’re disgustingly adorable and sweet that way).

When everything calmed down for a bit, but still far from everything ending (they know that everything can’t simply be done like that, no. There is more to come, and judging by the expression on Tooru’s face, they’re nowhere near the end), he trudged back to the Main Hall where everyone is gathered, slightly limping because his left foot hurts from where he fell down a while ago.

The first thing that greets him is the heaps of rubble on the floor and the amount of casualties, both wounded and dead, filling the area. Groans of pains fell from parted mouths, parched and exhausted. Bloody wounds are being treated by those who could move and help. And the lifeless bodies are being whispered last words, that their bravery and courage will be remembered, before they are covered with sheets black as the night.

Then the next is the piercing cry of his mother, which made Atsumu quicken his pace to get to where his family is, ignoring the spike of pain when he placed his weight on his injured foot.

When he got to the area near the back and saw the huddle of his family and closest friends, forlorn looks on their faces, the first thing that he thought was, _“Unfair. Osamu, you’re unfair.”_ And then, there were tears running down his eyes and he was stumbling towards his twin brother, lying down on the ground with his eyes closed.

Rintarou was beside Osamu, holding his hand and though his face betrayed nothing, Atsumu could see his brown eyes glisten with unshed tears and his arm shaking as he tried to hold himself back from crying.

Atsumu reached for Osamu’s other hand and he felt the coldness of his lifeless body. Still, he shakes him, trying to get him to open his eyes and wake up, thinking that maybe this is just a big prank and this body is a decoy and Osamu will come out from some hidden place and laugh at him because he looks pathetic, tears and snot running down his face mixing with dirt and grime and caked blood.

But no matter how much Atsumu shakes him awake, no matter how much Atsumu screams at him to, _“Goddamit, Osamu. Wake the fuck up, stop joking around because this isn’t fucking funny!”_ Osamu didn’t stir nor did he open his eyes to look at Atsumu in that unimpressed way of his and reply, _“You look ugly. Stop crying.”_

“He’s dead, Atsumu,” Aran whispers, a sob escaping his lips as the truth was finally said out loud.

Atsumu falls into a heap, laying his forehead on where he clasped Osamu’s hand in both of his, agonized cries spilling from his mouth as he kept muttering how unfair it was, how he didn’t keep his promise to Rintarou about seeing each other later, about how he is such a fucking hypocrite.

“You told me not to die,” Atsumu says in between sobs, “You told me not to die! But here you are. You’re so fucking unfair, Samu.”

It was quiet, only the sounds of their crying could be heard echoing in the room.

It was a while but it felt too short when he felt Shinsuke’s hand on his shoulder pulling him back. Atsumu nudges his touch away and stubbornly refuses to part with Osamu’s body, afraid to let go, afraid to accept the truth of the situation. He is mad, he is hurting, he is in denial still.

But then Rintarou places a gentle hand on his arm, making Atsumu look at him and the way he smiled, wobbly, telling Atsumu in the softest voice he ever used on him, “Atsumu, it’s time.”

Atsumu’s hold on Osamu loosens and he gives a parting kiss on his brother’s forehead before he stands up. Rintarou leans down and whispers a few words, Atsumu reading the movement of his lips, _I love you,_ before he too presses a kiss on the cold skin of his forehead, lingering with his eyes closed. And then he gets on his feet and stands beside Atsumu, watching the attendants place a black sheet on Osamu’s form and take him away to a much safer place, away from the chaos of the battle.

Rintarou turns to Atsumu and hides his face on the blonde’s shoulder and then his body starts to shake as he finally lets his own tears out.

Atsumu holds Rintarou in his arms as his eyes follow the retreating forms of the attendants holding his brother’s body in their hands and he feels the other half of him break.

*****

Atsumu trudges up the grassy path, the smell of poppy and dew slightly slipping through the mask he is wearing and tickling his nose.

When he reaches the top of the hill, where a lone sakura tree stands, he finds the back of a familiar figure, dark black-brown hair kept in the usual way he had been styling it ever since they were teenagers fumbling their way into studying and learning magic.

He lets a fond smile show on his face at the memory and he continues on, calling for the other man who turns around to look at him with a smile.

“You’re early, Rin,” Atsumu says in lieu of a greeting.

“I wouldn’t want to be late,” he replies and Atsumu huffs good naturedly as he places the bouquet of baby’s breath flowers on top of Osamu’s grave.

“You were never late. Not once in the seven years that he had been here. Honestly, why do we have to choose a high area as his final resting place? My thighs are fucking killin’ me.”

Rintarou rolls his eyes fondly at Atsumu’s protest, thinking that a part of him never did change and maybe he never will and that’s okay.

“You know why. No place could ever be more perfect for him,” Rintarou says and Atsumu agrees.

The sakura tree holds all their memories from childhood, when they would play here and when they met Rintarou during one rainy day and the little boy ran off from the kids who were bullying him and he got lost, to their teenage days when they would mess around and tease each other and wound fallen sakuras into Rintarou’s long hair before the three of them would make their way back to the house of the Miyas to eat dinner.

It had been seven years since Osamu died, and the fact that he is permanently gone from the world still leaves an unbearable ache in Atsumu’s chest. Osamu had been his companion literally ever since they were in their mother’s womb and after his death, facing the world without Osamu by his side is suddenly fearful and suffocating. 

The day he died, Atsumu felt a part of him die as well. Osamu was his twin after all, his other half. And he knows that Rintarou, even through the strong facade he shows everyone, still hurts every now and then.

At the beginning, when he was just trying to take everything in and was reeling from the post-battle events, Atsumu was a mixture of anger and sadness, and he stubbornly refused to go out, opting to hole up in his room until Rintarou barged inside his bedroom with tears in his eyes and an angry set in his eyebrows. They cried together that night, sharing the pain of their lose and then the day after, they trudged up the hill and sat on the grass on each side of Osamu's grave, leaning against the trunk of the sakura tree and watching as the day pass by. Then, they found ways to cope healthily and slowly, they started to accept the truth of the situation. Then breathing became easier again, a weight gone in their chests after months of denial.

They stayed there for a while, reminiscing the bits and pieces of their memories from their early and younger days, ones they will always look back to every time and hold dearly in their hearts. And then when it was time to go, they bid their goodbyes, telling Osamu that they will see him again if they could (which was often because they all make time to visit him to share what happens in their daily lives, just so it will feel that somehow, he is still with them).

“Your brown hair looks good on you,” Rintarou comments as they slowly walked down the familiar path, sparing a quick glance towards Atsumu before returning his eyes to the road in front of them, “Though it feels kinda new. I got used to seeing you in blonde.”

“Maybe I’d dye my hair back to blonde again,” Atsumu says haughtily but Rintarou just smirks.

“Nah, leave it like that. It’s better. More natural and more you.”

_‘It almost feels like nothing has changed,’_ was left unsaid but Atsumu understands. At first, it kind of hurt to dye his hair back to its original color, the indication that there would be no need to keep it blonde because they wouldn’t confuse him for Osamu or vice versa serves as a reminder that Osamu is really gone.

But maybe it was a good way to honor and remember him too, a look back at their younger days when things were still peaceful and much simpler.

“So, the Quidditch tournaments are coming up. How’re you feeling?” Rintarou asks him as they neared the bottom of the almost-endless flight of stairs.

“Nervous,” Atsumu answers honestly because it’s Rintarou and Rintarou, just like Osamu, sees through his lies and deflections so what is the use of hiding it from him?

“I reckon you will do well. You had always been training so hard for this,” Rintarou reassures him, the sincerity bleeding through each of his words no matter how simple they are. It effectively makes Atsumu relax, his shoulders sagging in a much more laidback stance.

“Yeah. I really hope it goes well. Are you comin’ to watch?” Atsumu asks as they reach the main road.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Rintarou replies with a small upward quirk of his lips.

They went their separate ways, promising to contact each other once they got to their destination safely— Atsumu to his team’s headquarters for Quidditch training and Rintarou to the ministry where he opted to work after graduation.

On top of the hill where Osamu’s body lies, a spirit of fox watches over those whom he left behind and the soft tingling of the bell is carried over by the wind, and Atsumu hides a smile behind his mask as he waits for the train to take him to where he will be.


End file.
